


An Arrest

by soubriquet



Series: What I Gave [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Hand Job, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soubriquet/pseuds/soubriquet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Constantine makes an arrest. In the bathroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Arrest

Your hands hooked into your elbows above your head, your shoulder blades back against the cold tile of the bathroom wall. It was recently empty, but you're no longer alone. You thought you had been quiet, just you with your hand in the close quarters of the shower cubicle, but you were wrong. Constantine heard you, and he knew.

You have no idea how long he was listening, only that your space is now no longer empty, but full, full of him. 

You've been charged with holding your own body, flushed red and heated against the white tiled wall, while the water still dripping off you ekes to the floor. Constantine stands before you, as sudden a presence as if the door had just violently blown open, instead of the quiet way he invited himself in, standing there at the entry to the shower to ascertain what he'd heard and forcibly pull you out. 

If you were turned on before, it's nothing to how you are now. You're painfully hard, here just for his scrutiny, and your hips move forward in shallow motions every time he comes nearer, as if you might be allowed to rub yourself against him. 

When he lowers his hand, absently, and rubs his hand against his own fabric, you almost moan.

"How long?" he asks, and you're surprised by the catch in his voice, as if you hadn't been expecting him to be as affected by this as you are.

You open your mouth to answer and he moves. Your wrists disappear in his hand, bend sharply to the left, his other hand at your shoulder, turning you straight to face the wall. Your lips bruise against it, your erection slides sharply against the cool and you make a desperate noise you can't hide against anything.

"How long, David?" 

God, he's right behind you, surrounding you, pushing the whole line of his body against you. His voice is almost a growl, but yours remains inescapably fluctuating and desperate. "Eight!" you say, barely able to process it, "Eight fucking years, okay, please-"

He growls into your ear, curving the hand that isn't flush between your shoulder blades to keep you tightly held, around the arch of your hipbone and over your cock. With no hesitation at all, he curls his fingers around you and drags you forward. You have to instantly ground yourself, or you'll fall to your knees, and it's all so much you know you're letting out whimpers. 

Far be it your brain will give you this with no compromise, he starts to pull away, even with his hand still moving on your cock, and you brace for the dream to fall apart, but then it all comes rushing back with the bite of his teeth where your shoulder meets your neck. Sounds jerk out of you, and as you curl your head back into him you bare your neck against the wall. 

Mercilessly, he pushes up against you, his own arousal flush against the small of your back, and that must hurt, you think, but your faith in pain giving no pleasure falls apart when his grip shifts to the roots of your hair. He tugs your head back, then shoves forward, slamming the side of your face into the wall, and you groan with it. You're just barely holding onto yourself, trying faintly not to cum just to prolong the experience.

"Bite me," you hiss, and he grabs you again- sharp rings of pain in the back of your neck. _"Jesus."_

It's almost more than you can bear, the pace his hand sets, which isn't really a pace at all, but because it's his hand, not yours, not any other person's, you're lost. "You're-" You have to stop to pull in air. "Christ con, I'm going to-"

Your release comes over you overwhelmingly, ending all process in your brain, just his hand - Con's hand - and the force of him against you, that's all you can feel. All that you know. Everything shorts out, and you cum all over the wall, some of it running down between Con's fingers where it doesn't decorate the wall, and you hadn't even been aware of him moving himself but there's his rhythm stumbling too and then he joins you, shooting all up your back, while you arch your spine with the last throws of sensitivity. 

He leans dead against you, both of you breathing hard, not even trying to explain this madness that came over the two of you as if you were twenty again. His head tucks over your shoulder, and you press yours to the tile, feeling the mess between you slide as he moves, and almost getting turned on again.

"Did we just?" It hangs in the air before you both, but neither say it.

Both assume that you know and know you would do it again, ten times over.


End file.
